Just another ordinary day, or so I had told my self during my meditation this morning. But that’s why one meditates isn’t it, to prepare your mind for the absurdities of the day.

The insanity began as soon as I walked in the office and saw my door cracked open. That might not seem odd to you, but I sat down the entire cleaning staff for a team meeting on the importance of my door being closed each night. In fact, they’ve been going nearly 6 months strong with out error. But on this particular day I saw light coming out of my office.

Horrified, I took a deep breath, gripped my book bag tight, and pushed the door gently open with a wet wipe. The most gruesome evil had surely visited me. I was so shocked, angry, and confused I yelled out like an old nun exorcising a demon. Screaming, “Holy mother of Christ.” I feel my book bag cascade down my back as it hit the floor.

My co-workers are behind me… chuckling…chuckling! Like this was funny, and as I looked even closer my labels had been moved around. My computer was not in the spot I traced for it, but 6 inches to the left. My post-it notes were in little zigs on one side of the room and then big zags on the other side, for goodness sake, why not just utilize the same pattern across both walls, freaking cavemen. The bottom half of my rolling chair was in the seat. Random photos of other families were scattered throughout, just sheer madness.

And then another thought came over me, I guess I never let that breath out. And the room began to spin, everything turned dark and blurry, my legs turned to jelly, I hit the ground, and I was out.

Now look, I know I’m a tad overwhelmingly meticulous, a little overbearing, and have just a smidge of OCD-like behaviors, but a violent man I could never be.

That was until I awoke to find my office back to normal. Everything was back in its proper place, the computer, the chair, the pens, post-it’s, my labels, my file cabinet, all of my to-do list, all of my white boards, all of my calendars, all of it. I look behind me to find my co-workers huddled together crowded in my doorway staring at me and whispering to one another. Two or three of them rush to the floor by my side.

I shot up to my feet and yelled, “What did you do, you monsters, you horrible monsters?” They all looked at each other puzzled, this infuriated me past a point I’ve never experienced before. My blood boiled beneath my skin, my nose flared up sky high, even my fists were balled up. Nobody said a thing. Just stares. I screamed “who did it!”, repeatedly, with every ‘who did it’ pushing me further towards this cliff inside of me.

I’m not an idiot, I don’t know how I could let them break me down to this point. I’m not emotionally challenged, they’re the psychos after all. I scream, “Ahhh damn this,” and grab a staple gun off of the staples, glue, rubber bands, and paper clips bin on my shelf. And I slam one right into my forehead, and scream “who did it!”. The faces turned pale as my walls, but no answer, so I did it again and again. And was starting to get dizzy, and the blood was getting all in my mouth. I fell to my knees, hit the stapler one last time, and blacked out all over again.

This time I woke up in a padded room with all white walls. The doctor said it was reported that I attacked my co-workers, we had a scuffle, and they heroically locked me in my office where I turned the stapler on myself. In agonizing physical pain and sheer disbelief, whilst giving myself a straight-jacket self-hug, I nodded my head at the doctor and simply replied, “Yup...”